


You Raise Me Up... To More Than I Can Be.

by purple_dahlias_in_winter



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance, SO MUCH FLUFF, Sherlolly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 17:02:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1175580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_dahlias_in_winter/pseuds/purple_dahlias_in_winter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the song, "You raise me up" by Josh Groban.  Sherlock comes to a sudden realization about Molly, fluffyness ensues.</p>
<p>This is my first fanfic. I used to write all the time in my teens, but life got in my way. LOL. This is me trying to reclaim my youth.  I hope you enjoy it.  Constructive criticism is welcome. Enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Raise Me Up... To More Than I Can Be.

 

Come to Baker St. after your shift.-SH  


Fine.-M  


Molly went about the rest of her shift not even wondering what Sherlock had in mind. She was now used to being asked to partake in his cases and investigations, even the occasional undercover bit. These requests had come more and more often after Mary had delivered the beautifully blonde baby very aptly named, Sunny Watson.    
  
She had wondered at John and Mary for giving their daughter such a quirky name.  But, the little girl lived up to it.  Sunshine Marigold Watson was every bit the ray of light that her parents needed after all that had transpired since her godfather had come back from the dead. Molly had been a bit hesistant to accept being Sunny's godmother thinking it was some sort of strategy to set up said godfather and godmother.  But Mary had assured her that eventhough she still believed they were meant for eachother, she had done it with the wellbeing of her daughter in mind. Mary couldn't think of any smarter, more caring godparents for her little girl.  
  
Sherlock and Molly were friends now.  She no longer stammered or shied away from his gaze.  Not since the day that he'd invited her to solve cases after he'd "come back to life." They shared smiles and nodded knowingly at eachother when they found the same things funny.  They had more in common than what they both had anticipated.     
  
He had even been there for her when her engagement to Tom was called off.  Tom, being so insecure in the friendship that she had forged with the once-dead detective, had pestered her into choosing between the two. Sherlock didn't know that part, though.  He just figured that the relationship had run it's course, he had wondered how she had let it progress so far. Tom was an UNBELIEVABLE dunce. Not worthy of the brilliant pathologist.  It was an unexpectedly easy decision for her to make.  
  
It wasn't as if she had deluded herself into thinking that Sherlock might share the feelings that she had never denied having for him, but she just couldn't stand Tom anymore.  He was dull, boring, and hated her job.  He practically made the decision for her one day when he'd told her that he expected her to quit her job and be a housewife. _A housewife? What is this? 1955?_ Sure, he made more than enough money, but that was not the kind of marriage she had envisioned for herself.  She always imagined it as a sort of partnership, a compromise of love between two people who shared the same views on life.  
  
Molly loved her job.  The thrill she got at the unexpected surprises the corpses in her morgue brought with them.  Being able to bring closure to the friends and family of the dead offered her the satisfaction of being helpful, without the actual need of personal contact with the living.  Her original career plan was to be a surgeon, but seeing the pain and sufferering endured by patients and their families made her tear up everytime.  She decided she would be better at dealing with "patients" that were already gone.  And assisting in the encarceration of a criminal once in while gave her a mental boost that told her she had made the right choice.  
  
Also, she would have never met a certain Consulting Detective.  
  
  
*******  
  
Sherlock Holmes had changed in the two years that he was "away."  Ever since he had been back he'd been more keen to not being alone.  Fighting and defeating a criminal network by himself had changed him in that respect.  Instead of retreating into his bedroom, his mind palace, or playing the violin incessantly when he was exasperated or bored, he sought out the company of others.  Sometimes it was John, sometimes it was Mrs. Hudson, sometimes even Mary. But most often it was Molly.  She was in the same place as he was.  Alone.  Eventhough he really wasn't.  But John had Mary and baby Sunny.  Mrs. Hudson had her gentleman callers and the ladies that she gossiped with.  Molly.  Molly had him and he had Molly.    
  
Sherlock would take cases, come and go from the lab, and even ask for her opinion more often than before.  At the end, even if John had assisted him, he'd find himself talking the case over with Molly.  John would often rush home not wanting to miss any milestones in the life of little Sunny.  Sherlock would just make his way to Molly's  flat and let himself in. If she was in middle of dinner or tea, he'd even join her. Some other times, he'd text her and she'd arrive at Baker St. after her shift.  To anyone that didn't personally know them, they seemed to be in a established romantic relationship. He had keys to her flat and she to his.    
  
After having basked in the glory that was friendship with John, he missed having someone else around.  Molly, it seemed, was perfect for the task.  She had never judged him, not even the first time she saw him beating a corpse with a riding crop.  She understood when he needed his space and never hesitated in answering his texts.  She did, however, draw the line at fishing his phone from his own pockets.  She was also no longer the sole purveyor of the black coffee with two sugars.  Sherlock would often find himself being the one bringing HER coffee.  Milk, no sugar.  
  
Slowly he began to realize that Molly had relocated from her room in his mind palace to being the guiding voice in it.  A warm July morning, Sherlock Holmes woke up to a sudden observation: He was in love with Molly Hooper.    
  
He had spent two weeks thinking about it afterwards.  He had not taken any cases or done any experiments.  His sole purpose during those two weeks was to analyze the data and decide whether to act upon his feelings or delete them.  Three years ago, he would have not even bothered to weigh his options, the decision to delete would have been immediate.  He had even remembered to eat at least once a day and had slept more than a few nights, but only because "Mind Palace Molly" had scolded him.  Sherlock hadn't been to the lab at St. Bart's.  He was not intentionally avoiding her, he couldn't anyway, because as soon as he would close his eyes, the only image he saw was Molly.  Apparently his mind was already made up, he just had to find a way to convey this Molly.  
  
*******  
  
Molly figured that he was just on a case and didn't seem to mind that she hadn't seen him in the past two weeks. That was becoming more and more common in their "relationship," if you could call it that.  So when the text came, she just thought that he was done with the case and wanted to talk it over.  
   
So as she walked up the stairs of 221B, Molly found it strange to hear the violin being played.  It wasn't the usual nonsensical sawing he did when he was bored.  There was an actual melody to it, and it was beautiful.  She stood in the doorway, and only saw the outline of Sherlock as he played.  The moonlight, the only source of light.  With tears in her eyes she stepped further in and stood in front of him.  Sherlock continued playing and Molly stood raptuously staring at him.  His eyes were closed, but he could feel her prescence right in front of him.  Molly had recognized the tune immediately and now the words seemed to dance all around her as he played.  
  
 _When I am down and, Oh my soul, so weary_  
 _When troubles come and my heart burdened be_  
 _Then I am still and wait here in the silence_  
 _Until you come and sit a while with me._  
  
 _You raise me up so I can stand on mountains_  
 _You raise me up to walk on stormy seas_  
 _I am strong when I am on your shoulders_  
 _You raise me up to more than I can be_  
  
 _There is no life, no life without it's hunger;_  
 _Each restless heart beats so imperfectly;_  
 _But when you come I am filled with wonder_  
 _Sometimes, I think I glimpse eternity._  
  
 _You raise me up so I can stand on mountains_  
 _You raise me up to walk on stormy seas_  
 _I am strong when I am on your shoulders_  
 _You raise me up to more than I can be._  
  
He ended the song, put the violin down and reached for her hands.  Molly, wiped her eyes and accepted his outstretched hands and held them.  She was about to open her mouth when he lifted both her hands to his lips and lightly kissed each one.  
  
"Molly, I have come to a realization.  And, please, don't interrupt me.  If I don't say this all now, I don't know what I'll do.  I enjoy spending time with you.  I appreciate your newfound honesty and confidence when around me.  I even seem to laugh at your jokes." He chuckled. "I enjoy looking at you.  The warmth that always greets me when I look into your brown eyes.  The way you scrunch up your nose when you are deep in thought.  Your small hands that are warm and soft and fit perfectly in mine.  The way your neck elongates when you wear your hair up.  Though I preffer when you wear it down.  The rich brown frames your delicate face and complements your pale, smooth skin." Sighing, he continued.  
  
"The more I thought about it, the more I realized that, Yes. I am in love with you,  Molly Hooper.  But what makes it even more astonishing, even to myself, is that being in love with you hasn't hindered my abilities.  For a long time I thought that allowing sentiment into life would hinder my mind and cloud my thoughts.  Quite the opposite, it seems to be. I have found that you have begun to organize and compartmentalize my mind palace like I'd never been able to really do by myself.  It's like you have walked in and reorganized and redecorated." He smiled.  "I have found, that with your presence there, I am able to access information much more easily and smoothly.  I no longer have to stay in my mind palace for hours on end when I am in need of an answer.  With your guidance, Molly, answers come in minutes, seconds even.  So yes, Molly! YOU ARE my mind palace and apparently my heart as well.  And there is only one thing that I can do about that."  
  
" I have never once been in a relationship and I am willing to try, with you!  I know it will be difficult and I will say and do the wrong things.  I will probably forget anniversaries, but NEVER your birthday.  I will go days without saying a word sometimes, especially when I'm on a case. But as you have experienced in the past year, I will always come home to you. " Molly reached up and wiped away the single tear that escaped his clear blue eyes.  
  
"I know we have never been on what normal people would call a "date" but for the past year, the stability that you have provided me is something I greatly appreciate and would love to have for the rest of my life.  So, Margaret Anne Hooper, will you marry me?"  
  
Sherlock released one of her hands and dug into his trouser pocket and pulled out a simple platinum band, with a single, small bezel-set diamond.  It was perfect.  
  
Molly released her hand from his hold, placed her hands on his chest, stood on her tip toes and brought her lips to his.  His lips were soft and warm and nothing short of perfect. She pulled away, wiped the tears from his eyes and said, "William Sherlock Scott Holmes, you are the most wonderful man on the face of this earth.  You are unbelieveably smart, devastatingly handsome and an undeniable git." She chuckled and sniffled at the same time. "But, I love you too!  And it would be an honor to become your wife."  
  
He slipped the ring on her finger.  And of course it fit perfectly!  Both of them a giggling, sniffling mess.  
  
Sherlock pulled her into a tight embrace his hands settling into the small of her back.  Molly lifted her arms and snaked them around his neck.  He lowered his head and settled his forehead on hers.    
  
Molly broke the silence, "Well then, Mr. Holmes.  How about a proper kiss now?"  


**Author's Note:**

> This is a work fan fiction. I am just borrowing the characters and infusing them with my special brand of sappyness. 
> 
> I am also borrowing the song lyrics of "You raise me up." 
> 
> I make no money from this, only the simple satisfaction of sharing my hopeless romanticism.


End file.
